Page 6 of Unlikable

“Everett!”

I have been banging on his room door for almost half a minute. My fist is starting to hurt. “Everett, open up! I need to talk to you!”

It remains silent on the other side of the door. Has he fallen into such a deep sleep that nothing can wake him? Normally a mosquito is enough to startle him awake.

I call his name and keep knocking on the door until I feel a hand on my shoulder.

It’s Cecile. She looks at me with big eyes. “Milady, is everything all right?”

“Yes…no…I…” I stammer, searching for the right words, but my brain is playing tricks on me. Am I sure what I just saw was real?

“You are trembling all over.” She grabs my hands and encircles them with hers. Her eyes search mine. Asking, waiting for an answer.

Other chambermaids have also come walking down the corridor. They are watching from a distance.

I avert my gaze and withdraw my hands from Cecile’s grip. “I need to speak to my brother. Where is he?”

“Your brother is not feeling well,” Jonathan’s voice sounds. He walks down the corridor with hurried steps, dodges the chambermaids and comes to a halt a metre in front of me. He has swapped his travelling clothes for everyday clothes: tall, light-grey trousers, a white shirt and a tight jacket with a high collar. “He has asked me to inform you and your father of his current condition. He is resting.”

I raise my eyebrows and stare again at the closed door behind which my brother must be, if what Jonathan tells me is true. Strange. Earlier, he didn’t seem to be bothered by anything.

“Milady,” says Cecile. “I just happened to come to inform you that dinner will be served in half an hour. Would you like me to help you change?”

And then I realise what I must currently look like in the eyes of the others in the corridor. A tousled, damp hairdo, a thin dress, full of wrinkles from lying on the bed. Probably dark bags under my eyes because I have been sleeping poorly for months and no powder has been applied to my face to hide those circles.

I could sink through the floor.

“Gladly,” I manage to utter, but my voice is nothing more than a high-pitched squeak. It can be heard well enough by Cecile, however, as she nods encouragingly at me and walks ahead of me towards my room.

As we turn the corner of the corridor, I look back cautiously at Everett’s door. Jonathan is still standing in front of it, looking at me from under his dark lashes. It almost feels like a warning.

The chambermaids in the corridor move cautiously and slowly again.

Cecile turns to me as she walks. “What’s the matter, milady?”

I shake my head in defeat. “If I only knew.”

· · ·

Mr Theodor Clifton is a talkative man with a friendly and warm demeanour. When I entered the dining room, he, father and Felix were already sitting at the table, enjoying a glass of whisky.

“Ah, if it isn’t the lovely Eleonora,” he said in greeting. His dark-brown sideburns and moustache neatly combed, his moss-green eyes—the same colour as his son’s—eager. He rose from his seat, walked towards me and locked me in an embrace, like he was an uncle and I was his niece whom he hadn’t seen in years. It made me feel a little uncomfortable, but it wasn’t annoying. It felt somehow familiar.

Dinner flies by surprisingly fast. We are at dessert, and even though I thought I would not get a bite down my throat this evening, I greedily wolfed down all the courses. Everything is delicious. At home on our estate, the dishes have become too familiar, as if our cook no longer cares about his job.

Here, on the other hand…

“Are you enjoying your fruit?” Theodor asks with genuine interest. When I look up at him, a satisfied smile appears on his bulbous face. “So it seems.”

“I’ve never seen her so happy,” Father jokes and sips his glass, then engages Theodor in conversation.

Felix is suspiciously quiet. Every now and then I think I notice him looking at me, but when I want to catch him, he has his eyes on his food again.

“It must be wonderful to dine like this every night,” I try to start a conversation to gauge him. I keep looking at him.

A muscle at his temple contracts. His reply takes a long time, but finally he says, “This is only because there are guests. Normally, we never eat so elaborately.” His voice is monotone; not a glimmer of emotion can be found in his words.

My guess is that he is afraid of me. Afraid of me telling his father about his misstep. I wonder if Theodor knows that his son took a diversion on the way to our estate.

For a moment I consider turning him in, just to show who has the power here. That he was wrong when he insulted me like that on the train, but I don’t. That is not who I am. It’s not how I want to be.

A maidservant comes to collect his empty plate and gives him a beaming smile. Felix answers that smile with a disgusting grin and wink.

Maybe I should still…

“My son,” Theodor then suddenly begins, “was your trip to London successful?”

Felix chokes on his whisky. His face turns almost as red as the apples on a large fruit bowl in the middle of the table.

Curious, I fold my hands under my chin, waiting for his reply.

“You must take small sips, dear boy,” Father jokes somewhat uncomfortably. “I don’t feel like attending another funeral.”

Silence falls. A silence in which only Felix’s coughing can be heard.

My father is a smart man with manners, but not always tactful.

“No, that would be incredibly annoying,” Felix manages to respond in a husky voice. He straightens his back, and then his eyes finally fall on me. I try to hold his gaze for as long as I can.

I am curious to hear your reply , I try to send with my mind.

Not a word about our meeting , his green eyes seem to say, though of course I am not sure. Small drops of sweat form at his temple.

“Well?” urges Theodor. By now he has finished his dessert, and he slides his plate forward to lean on the table, all attention on his son. “Was Mr Mercius satisfied with the design?”

“He has given his agreement,” Felix answers and tears his gaze away from me. When he does so, I feel a kind of chill rise within me. As if something very familiar has been taken from me in that small, simple act. “He has signed, and the design has been sold. They will start building as early as next month.”

Theodor claps his hands once, his face shining with pride. “I knew you could do it, boy. I’m immensely proud of you.”

“Were you able to strike a deal with someone?” Father wants to know.

“My son occasionally gets involved in architecture. For the past three months, he has been working on a project for a lord in London. A department store is to be built, and Felix had made a beautiful design.”

I feel myself raising my eyebrows. I am surprised and slightly impressed at the same time. To be honest, I didn’t expect that this boy had been to London to do anything other than party and have fun with women. Maybe I was wrong about him.

“Thanks, Father.” Felix stares at the table again. Because I am sitting at the head of the table and Felix at the long part, I can see his left leg is moving up and down uncomfortably.

I can no longer stop myself. Curiosity takes hold of me. “Is that why you were a bit late in Canterbury? Because you had to close a deal?”

“Were you late, boy?” responds Theodor sternly and with a kind of vicarious shame in his voice. “You had three days. The third day was to travel to Canterbury.”

Felix turns his head my way and looks at me so murderously that I avert my eyes and concentrate on my red wine, which I casually try to put to my lips. I succeed but with some difficulty.

“We had some bad luck on the road with the horses,” Felix says.

“That must have been it,” I respond with a manufactured smile, still staring at my wine glass, the contents of which I gulped down very quickly.

“I’m sorry if my son made you wait a bit longer,” Theodor sighs. “Let me offer you another whisky, dear friend of mine, as a way of making up for it. Eleonora, another glass of wine for you, by the looks of it?”

“No, thank you, Mr Clifton.” I place my empty glass back on the table and take my napkin from my lap to fold it neatly. During all this, I dare not look up. Have I made a mistake in putting Felix on the spot like this?

But he also put you on the spot, Eleonora.

So does it make me a better person to get back at him this way?

“I’m withdrawing for tonight,” I say, disappointed in myself. As I make the move to slide my chair back, Felix gets up and walks over to help me.

A lump forms in my throat as I try to pretend nothing is wrong. Felix holds out his hand, and when I slip my fingers into his, he squeezes just a little too hard, making my skin around his fingers turn white.

“Satisfied?” he hisses at me in a whisper, his lips forming a smile.

“Not quite,” I respond honestly and with a slight squeak in my voice.

Never has anyone looked at me in such a way, as if I am a terrible person.

“I will escort Eleonora safely to her room, Master Prime,” Felix promises with such enthusiasm in his voice that even I would almost believe it if I did not know better.

Father nods at him gratefully. “That’s kind of you, boy.”

“Good night, Father. Goodnight, Mr Clifton,” I say extremely politely and curtsy, then turn around and pull my fingers from Felix’s clutches, with difficulty.

“Oh, Eleonora, before I forget,” Father calls me back with a seriousness in his voice.

My neck hairs stand up.

He knows I read newspapers. He knows Cecile smuggles them in for me.

“London is not a safe place at the moment. It’s a good thing you don’t know what’s going on, but I want you to be protected. There are special safety collars made by some designer. It is important for every woman to wear such a collar. You don’t need to know the details. Ask your brother to go with you. It is crucial that you are safe.”

I breathe a sigh of relief, then a new wave of panic engulfs me. I turn to Father and see how his eyes reflect fear. “Safety collars, Father?”

“You don’t need to know the details,” he repeats monotonously. “And you aren’t to go out on the streets alone either. Not in the evening, not during the day and certainly not at night.”

“Come, come, dear Philip,” Theodor tries to lighten the mood. “She is no longer a small child. Look at her. She is a handsome, mature young lady.”

Father nods in agreement. “That’s exactly why I’m so worried.”

· · ·

Manor Clifton is, as I mentioned earlier, smaller than ours, but at the moment it feels like the house is a hundred times bigger. I have no idea where Felix’s room is, but he has been following me all the way back to the corridor that mine adjoins. I would almost think it is his intention to follow me.

When I turn the corner, walk to the door of my room and put my hand on the latch, he is still standing behind me.

“I don’t recall us sharing a room, Mr Clifton.”

“Fortunately, we don’t either,” is his icy reply.

I wait a few seconds before opening my door, to give him time to say something more because even though my back is to him, I just feel that our conversation is not finished.

I can’t wait long; his presence makes me too nervous. I open the door and step inside. When I want to close the door quickly, Felix puts his foot in the space.

“Not so fast.” And with those words, he steps into my room, pushing me aside without so much as a by your leave. He closes the door behind him, and then we are alone.

Two people in a room. The silver glow of the moon shines ominously through the windows. This is totally inappropriate. This cannot happen. This should not be. This goes against societal norms; it’s not done.

We are not married. Even if we were engaged, a situation like this is completely forbidden.

“Mr Clifton—”

“Leave your manners for what they are,” he interrupts me abruptly. “After all, you don’t have any.”

I swallow and stare at him. The top of his face is shrouded in darkness, preventing me from seeing his eyes. “All right then,” I say and straighten my shoulders. I act braver than I feel at the moment. “To what do I owe this visit? Because I think you are just here to insult me again.”

“That bothers you, doesn’t it?”

I cross my arms in response to his question.

Felix says nothing for a few seconds. Then he sighs and crosses his arms as well. “Listen, Miss Prime.” He pronounces the word “Miss” as if it were poison. “If we are to live under one roof, I want to establish a few things first. Rules, agreements.”

“Agreements?”

“Agreements,” he confirms. “Starting with the agreement that we don’t put each other on the spot, as you did just now. What I do outside my working hours is none of my father’s business. A son is allowed to keep secrets from his old man.”

“I wasn’t raised that way, though.” I laugh in disbelief. “I was taught that you should respect your parents and not flaunt their rules.”

“Fine, but I have my own rules.”

“Well, well. How daring of you.”

Felix takes a step closer, so the moonlight illuminates his whole face and I can see the fierce expression in his eyes. Instinctively, I take a step backwards, but my ankles hit the edge of my bed, causing me to fall backwards. His hand grabs me by my wrist and holds me upright.

“I’m not joking, Miss Prime,” he continues in a commanding tone. He helps me back up, bringing his face uncomfortably close to mine.

“Miss Prime?” Cecile asks on the other side of the door.

Felix immediately releases my wrist and presses his finger to his lips.

We wait anxiously.

“Miss Prime, are you there?”

“Say something,” Felix orders.

“Yes, Cecile,” I manage hoarsely. I clear my throat. “Is something wrong?”

I can almost hear Cecile thinking on the other side of the door, as if she senses that something is not quite right. “I just came to check that everything is as it should be. I unpacked your things and hung them in the wardrobe as you asked.”

“Ah, that’s very kind of you. Thank you.”

Silence.

Then she asks in a cautious tone, “And I was wondering if you are doing better, after the situation in the corridor earlier.”

Felix raises his eyebrows at me. I shake my head to make him think it’s nothing.

But suddenly the fear from a moment ago returns.

Because of the dinner and the tension at the table between Felix and me, I had completely forgotten what I had seen in the garden earlier. Or rather, who I had seen in the garden earlier.

“Miss Prime?”

“I’m fine now, Cecile. Thank you. I’m very tired. I’m withdrawing for tonight. You don’t need to help me with my corset. I’m too tired to stand anymore.”

Again there is silence. Cecile must realise something is going on. Normally she would have long since asked to come in.

“Very well then, Miss Prime. Sleep well, and if there is anything…well, you just have to call.”

Judging by the fading footsteps, Cecile leaves the corridor. Felix and I wait until nothing more can be heard, and then we both start talking.

“Hurry up with your rules; I’m tired.”

“What was your lady’s maid talking about?”

We stare at each other again.

“You first,” he then says.

I turn away from him a quarter turn and cross my arms again. “Firstly, I was only looking for my brother because I needed him, but apparently he is ill. Secondly, you don’t really have anything to do with that at all, so I don’t need to answer that either.”

“And yet you did.” He grins, but this time it is not a mean grin, rather an interested one. “I will hurry because I am as reluctant to be in a room with you as you are with me.”

“Glad we can agree on that.”

“Again, I don’t want us to put each other on the spot. Let’s make that rule number one.”

“Fine.”

“Rule number two.” He takes a step back and runs a hand through his curly black hair. A gesture that makes something flare up inside me, and I hate that my body reacts to him like this. I don’t want to be one of those girls who swoons when he does something as simple as grinning so annoyingly or backhandedly flashing his beautiful smile.

“Did you hear me?”

“Excuse me?”

Eleonora, concentrate. That is neither here nor there. Pull yourself together. Be the lady you were raised to be .

Felix rolls his eyes, irritated. “Rule number two, we stay away from each other. As long as we don’t absolutely have to be in a room together, we won’t.”

“You insult me, Mr Clifton.” And that is sincerely so. I don’t always have to be in his presence, but the fact that he suggests this is like a knife straight into my heart. I am a respected young woman, not a stray dog that people prefer to walk around. “Whence this rule?”

“You gave me a reason to think up that one. I don’t like snitches much.”

“And I don’t like vulgar men who make out with harlots in the train’s lavatory and then belittle me.”

Felix’s eyes grow wide, an amused smile playing on his face. “Is that what bothers you so much?” He takes another step closer. This time I stand my ground. “Would you have preferred it if you had been her, the woman in question?”

“This is absurd.” I say it so loudly that we both remain silent for a moment to listen if anyone happens to hear us. When that finally seems not to be the case, I continue in a snarky whisper, “How dare you speak to me like this?”

But Felix does not seem upset by my outburst. In fact, he only seems to like it more as the grin on his face widens and he takes another step closer. He is now a mere foot away from me, and I ball my hands into fists beside my body. My nails press into my skin.

“Women are so…simple?” Brutally, he lets his eyes slide over my body. Slowly, from head to toe. “You might naturally act like this to me because you are jealous.”

“Rule number three?” I say, ignoring his inappropriate remark. “With rule number two, by the way, I totally agree.”

Felix’s face becomes unreadable again, and then he takes two steps backwards. Immediately I breathe a sigh of relief. If he saw that, he doesn’t show it. “I don’t have a third rule. These were the two things I wanted to agree on.”

“Then I have another one.” I walk to the window so that I am as far away from him as possible. I can no longer bear to be so close to him. This man gets under my skin.

“And that is?”

I put my hands on the window frame, feeling the coolness from outside creep in through the cracks. Carefully I drop my gaze to the garden, where earlier I saw the person who reminded me so much of my mother. “Never speak to me like I’m a piece of meat again, never look at me like you just did and never step into my room without my permission.”

“That’s five rules in total.”

“How well you can count. You were probably the smartest kid in the class?”

“I have been home-schooled.”

“Leave my room.”

I turn my back to him and wait to hear the sound of footsteps walking away, the door being opened and then falling back into the lock with a soft click.

When I am all alone, I drop to the ground, exhausted.